The Copycat Cannibal
by Becca12345
Summary: Lestrade has his work cut out for him when a series of cannibal murders appear. When Sherlock Holmes can find no leads, Sherlock turns to Mycroft and asks his brother to bring in Dr Hannibal Lecter to help with the case. SHERLOCK/SILENCE OF THE LAMBS CROSSOVER. T for language and small hints of cannibalism.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own nothing here. I only own the victims. If I owned any familiar characters, I wouldn't be here right now **

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**Chapter One**

Nina Knight walked down the office stairs and out into the cool November air. Night had fallen quickly over London and the orange glow from the street lamps shone on the wet pavement. Pulling her scarf tighter around her pale neck, Nina pulled out her expensive android phone and sent a quick text to her boyfriend, telling him that she will be stopping at the local Tesco for some last minute shopping.

The bright white lights of the supermarket flicked lazily above as Nina browsed down the different aisles. Throwing various bits and bobs into her basket, Nina paused to look around. She had that strange feeling that someone or something was watching her closely. Shaking it off as part of her imagination, Nina started to hum softly to herself as she finished up her shopping.

Upon paying for the items, Nina once again found that feeling creep up on her. She sent a glance to the person behind her at the checkout, an old woman with far too much cat food in her basket. Nina smiled at the old woman and packed her items in a cheap plastic bag and extended her thanks to the bored checkout girl, who looked liked she would much rather be anywhere else than this place. Nina couldn't blame her.

Exiting the supermarket, Nina quickly made her way down the dark streets. That feeling of being watched still hung around her, tapping her on the shoulder, whispering in her ear. She quickly picked up her pace and kept her head down, as to avoid eye contact, should anyone pass her.

As Nina, finally made it to her street, she started to hear footsteps. Not light footsteps, or quick footsteps. Slow, leisurely walking footsteps. She turned around to look, but only saw her shadow, reflecting in the neon glow of the street lamps. Now, almost running, Nina made it up to her front door and let out a sigh of relief. Fumbling in her bag, for her key, Nina heard a smash come from inside her house.

"Paul?" Nina shouted, wondering if her boyfriend had dropped, yet another one of her glass ornaments. No answer. Nina pushed the key into the lock and swiftly entered the house. She pulled the key from the lock and held it in front of her as a makeshift weapon. Sliding her hand across the wall, Nina looked for the light switch.

"Paul? If you've broken another one of my ornaments..." Nina said, feeling braver now that the light radiated through the room. She walked slowly up the hall and rounded the corner to the living room. She switched on the light to be met with a broken window. Glass covered the floor and wet footsteps trailed over the cream carpet and into the kitchen.

"Paul, this is not funny no more." Nina said as she walked into the kitchen. She flicked on the light and let out a shrill scream as she saw what was in the kitchen.

"Ah, Nina. So good to see you again. We were just starting dinner. But it's missing something, and I see you were kind enough to buy us groceries." A sultry voice purred from behind her. "Such a shame your beau won't be able to join us."

As Nina's cries were muffled by the stranger, the dismembered head of her boyfriend bore back at her, mouth open in a final scream.

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"...and all that was left of her was her head. Well, if you could call it a head. Her cheeks were missing." Lestrade explained to Sherlock and John as they observed the crime scene. John looked as if he was going to pass out. He'd seen some gruesome things in his time, but he'd never heard of something like this. Sherlock, however, remained impassive to Lestrade's descriptions.

"We also found the head of her boyfriend. His cheeks were intact though. We can't find their bodies though."

"Names?" Sherlock questioned Lestrade.

"Nina Knight, she was a lawyer and Paul Davis. We don't know about him."

Sherlock looked at the scene and ignoring the yellow tape and protests of Anderson and Sally, made his way into the house. Sherlock's mind starting working as he stepped over the threshold.

"Sherlock. Lestrade says you must wear gloves." John said, joining his companion, holding a pair of latex gloves. Sherlock pulled a face at the cheap gloves and pulled out his expensive leather ones.

"Come on John." Sherlock said, excitement creeping into his voice as he snapped on a glove "I'm eager to see what the damage is." Ina flash of black, Sherlock had swept around the corner. John sighed and hurried to catch up, only to step back and gag at the sight before him.

"Oh God. That's..." John could not continue. Sherlock just looked at John and then at the heads in front of him.

"Hmm..." Sherlock said, going into full detective mode. "The killer obviously held a more personal grudge against Ms Knight. You see John, the marks around the neck, made by a blunt hacksaw. Paul though, doesn't have any marks and there is no sign of struggling. So Nina was alive when she was beheaded. Interesting." Sherlock examined the head of Paul with great interest.

"Neck was broken. Something tells me that Paul has no part in this, and he was just someone who got in the way." Sherlock then turned to look at Nina.

"Ms Knight though. She knew her killer. The look of recognition in her eyes tells that." Sherlock looked to where the cheekbones should be. "Hmm..no body, no cheekbones..very interesting indeed." Sherlock then went to sniff the air. He made his way over to the stove and oven and examined the work surface.

"Dishes, pots and pans.." Sherlock looked over and his glance fell on a bottle of wine. "Chianti wine." Sherlock's eyes widened and he turned back to the pots on the stove. "OH!" Sherlock's face broke into a smile and he turned to John. "Come along John." Sherlock whirled out of the kitchen. John happily followed, glad to be away from the sight.

"Well?" Lestrade asked as Sherlock and John approached.

"Chianti wine." Sherlock said as if it was the answer to everything. When everyone looked at him clueless, Sherlock sighed. "You're all idiots. The killer left a bottle of Chianti wine on the counter."

"How do you know it was the murderer?" Anderson said.

"Because Anderson, it's a message to us." Sherlock closed his eyes and thought. "The stove was still warm. If, the murders happened between 9 and 11 last night, the stove should have cooled by now. But no. It was still warm. Which means our killer only recently left this place. But what would a stove, missing cheekbones and Chianti wine have in common?"

When no one answered, Sherlock frowned and looked over at John who shrugged. Sherlock huffed and turned to face the crime scene, looking around at the house carefully.

"It's a sign. We've got a cannibal on our hands." Sherlock said. "A cannibal who's idol seems to be none other than Dr Hannibal Lecter."

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Author's Note: Another plot bunny that wouldn't go away. I've actually got this one all ready for publishing. Go me. I'll probably update every Monday and Friday, depending on my schedule. I hope you enjoy this story :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Sherlock let out a laugh as he closed John's laptop. John peered over the top of his medical journal and raised his hairline at Sherlock.

"Are you going to elaborate on what is so funny?" John questioned the detective.

"People are going spare over this. I told Lestrade that releasing the case this early would only cause panic. Read some of the comments on the news articles, they are hilarious." John frowned as Sherlock continued to laugh.

"This is no laughing matter Sherlock. There is a cannibal loose. You do know, they never caught Hannibal Lecter when he escaped? And they never found that Starling woman either. She was apparently one of the last people to see him." John was getting frustrated at Sherlock who didn't seem to care there was a cannibal on the loose. This was just another game for Sherlock.

"I do know that John. I'm not as clueless to the media as you think." Sherlock shot back. "But we both know it is not Lecter. He would not be as sloppy as to leave dishes in the sink."

John was about to shoot back a retort when Sherlock's phone rang. "Sherlock Holmes. Ah Lestrade." Sherlock was silent for a few minutes before nodding. "We'll be there as soon as possible." He hung up and turned to John.

"They've found another one."

Sherlock and John walked over to where Lestrade and Donovan were standing by the squad car. John greeted them both with a nod, whilst Sherlock jumped right in, demanding details.

"Henry Sudan. He was a judge in the High court. Same as before, cheekbones gone and no body. Bottle of Chianti was left on the counter. Anderson took the liberty of taking photos before they moved the head."

"Urgh. Anderson takes horrible photos." Sherlock complained "I'll need to see the crime scene." Without waiting for an answer, Sherlock made his way under the tape and into the building.

The head of Henry Sudan sat on the kitchen table. It had previously been found on the kitchen counter, by the stove. Sherlock sniffed the air. He could smell something cooking. Following the smell, he made his way over to the oven and opened it.

"Pass me a torch." He called to one of the officers. Shining the torch in the dark oven, Sherlock's eyes widened and he pulled back. "Get Lestrade in here. Now." He barked at the officers. Sherlock turned back to the oven and looked inside it again. He grabbed a towel from the rack above him and pulled out the container, grimacing as he lifted it up and set it on the counter.

"I think I found the body. Well, the top half of the body anyway." Sherlock said and presented the container to Lestrade who backed away. In the container was the torso of Henry Sudan with the word GIVE carved into the skin.

"This was intended. It's a message." Sherlock said. "The wine was a sign of who we were dealing with. This is a message. He's going to kill again." Pacing the floor of Lestrade's office, Sherlock threw around ideas.

"A judge and a lawyer. They obviously are connected. But how?" Sherlock sighed deeply. "Hannibal Lecter extracted his revenge on those who killed his little sister." Sherlock huffed in frustration and pulled out his phone tapping away at the keypad.

_Get me as much information as you can on Nina Knight and Henry Sudan - SH_

_Why? -MH_

_Both were found killed in the exact same manner. Connected somehow -SH_

_Very well. -MH_

"Mycroft is going to do some research into their backgrounds to see if he can make a connection." Sherlock said.

"How do you know so much about Lecter?" Anderson sneered. "Psychopaths stick together I take it?"

Sherlock turned to look at Anderson and sighed. "Sociopath. And do you read Anderson? Books were written about Lecter's life. This man, Thomas Harris, questioned Lecter about his childhood and who he killed, and how he killed them. Good set of books as well." Andeson looked away in disgust. He couldn't imagine anyone who would want to interview a cannibal.

"So, what do we do now Lestrade?" John asked the DI who was looking at Sherlock in awe.

"We wait of course John." Sherlock said. "Wait for Mycroft to get back to us and hope that our copycat does not strike for a while."

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**UPDATE! I would have updated on Monday, but I fell ill! Hope you enjoy this!  
**


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